


LIGHT SIDE, DARK SIDE, WILD SIDE

by Karla_shadow



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Bickering, F/M, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren's diary, Kylo is skinny, Psychosurgery, Rey's Diary, Reylo - Freeform, Slow Burn, but Rey will soon make him flourish again, doing things together, forced to cooperate, hiding together, odd - but nice - therapy protocol, of course
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-04 19:51:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karla_shadow/pseuds/Karla_shadow
Summary: AU-ish set after "The Force Awakens".Rey is summoned via the Force by a mysterious psychosurgeon, only to found out that his sworn enemy Kylo Ren wants their bond to be severed as soon as possible. Which is a good thing, of course: who wants to be bonded to a monster? But, according to the doctor, alternatives are to be taken into consideration...A tribute to Reylo fandom.





	1. DR. MODNA FOLYER, SPECIALIST IN FORCE BONDS

“Ehm.” Rey cleared her throat, standing before the half-open door. 

“Ehm…May I come in?” she said, her right hand nervously fidgeting with the hilt of her lightsaber, the other pushing the door lightly. After knocking at the door, when she had arrived, she had waited a bit in the long, antiseptically clean corridor, but no one had responded. No sound could be heard and the whole place seemed deserted. 

“Is there anybody in here?”, she called, but still no sign of activities came from the inside. Rey took a step back, reading again the inscription on the metal plate next to the door: 

**DR. MODNA FOLYER**

**PSYCHOSURGEON – NEUROLOGIST – PSYCHIATRIST**

**Specialist in therapy and rehabilitation of:**

**mental diseases in biotic organisms and robotic systems**

**obsessional behaviour and paranoid psychosis in artificial intelligence**

**mental disorders related to hyperconnectivity and hypersensorial abilities**

**Psychosurgical specialization in memory/personality implants/removals**

This was the place, of this Rey was quite sure: visions of the damn plate had been obsessing her at least for a month by now. In the beginning, she had thought the Force itself was giving her advice: _it’s about time you go to a shrink_. Insistently advising, she could tell, when other flashes had popped up into her brain, very detailed views of places, meant for her to find them, all in a swirling crescendo: galactic quadrant, system, planet, city, street, room – this room. 

On the contrary, the reasons why she was there the Force had been quite mysterious about. 

A rattle coming from the room startled her. Something was happening, finally. A female voice, maybe human, in a low tone: “Do not go to the door, H70. Do not welcome her and don’t let her enter, I cannot receive her. Do not let her sit on that chair”. Almost immediately, a small golden droid appeared at the door: “Good morning, miss Rey of Jakku. You are welcome, please enter. The Doctor is waiting for you eagerly; if you wish, you could ease yourself on that chair, before the desk.” 

Confused, Rey followed the droid. The doctor was seated at her desk; a large window behind her poured a bright light into the room, leaving the woman’s likeness in shadow. 

“H70, stay here”, the Doctor commanded, the droid promptly disappearing in an adjacent room. “Miss Rey of Jakku, thank you for coming. I apologize for the unusual way I contacted you, but I needed to communicate with you about a matter of uttermost delicacy, that must remain confidential. It regards one of my patients and you need to know that if any information about this conversation leaks out, our lives - mine, yours and my patient’s - will be in great danger. Before I continue, I need to be sure you’ll keep the secret.” 

Yes, Rey had felt it. Together with the visions, the urge to keep them secret, to hit the route without telling anyone where she was going and why. It was like she had a duty to perform, of the utmost importance. A duty to herself. 

And also, an inexplicable sense of hope, the impression that finally, finally in her life something really good was about to happen. 

“Doctor Folyer, are… are you saying that you used the Force to summon me here, to talk me about a patient of yours? Whit whom I am supposed to have… some kind of relation?” 

“Yes”, Dr. Folyer’s hands went to a document laying on her desk, “to be precise, you are here to give your informed consent to a psychosurgical treatment.” 

“Doctor,” her trembling voice said, “are my parents involved in all of this?” 

The doctor lifted her head slightly, then closed her eyes. “I’m sorry they’re not, miss Rey”. 

“Then I’m afraid I don’t understand, doctor.” Rey spoke warily, her hand slowly reaching for the lightsaber. Gone was the stupid hope - oh, she had been really hoping - of a family reunification, instantly replaced by the fear she had walked straight into a trap. And the woman before her had to be force sensitive, otherwise how to explain the visions? And yet… 

The doctor sighed. “I feel your distrust. No, this is not a trap and I don’t work with the First Order. Yes, miss Rey, obviously I am Force sensitive. I heal my patients by means of the Force. But it wasn’t exactly me who contacted you. It would be more correct to say I used a channel that was...already open. Now please, I need you to remain calm: I will try to explain the issue as clearly as possible.” 

Rey deflated, trying to control her anxious state through the Force. Even so, her emotional turmoil was making it hard for her to focus on the Doctor’s words. 

“Approximately one month ago, a man came to me explicitly requesting a treatment on himself. A crippling treatment, I could say, but necessary, at least in his opinion. On the basis of his medical history and preliminary examinations, though, I concluded that any invasive, scarring act on his psyche would affect yours as well, if not more. That’s why you are here. I need to make sure you are informed about the nature of this treatment and about the risks for your health. It is essential I have your written consent before proceeding on him.” 

_Him_ . _Her parents weren’t involved, then it could be only…him_. _Her Adversary_. _The Monster. Han’s killer_. Rey closed her eyes, feeling dizzy. The light coming from the window before her instantly switched in a different shade of white, colder, fateful. 

_Shivers like snowflakes on her skin_. _No_. 

_A foggy dream, now forgotten._

_And from then on, a strange feeling. A presence. A change._

A voice from nowhere was calling her. 

“Miss Rey of Jakku?” 

Rey startled. The doctor was talking to her, she realized, coming back from her state. 

“Are you willing to give your consent, miss Rey of Jakku?” 

Rey opened her eyes, standing up from her chair. The Doctor tilted her head to keep eye contact with her, and from the new angle, more details of her interlocutor’s face were visible. Calm blue eyes. A sad expression on her mouth. The emphatic impression that the older woman was a lonely person, as she herself was, soothed Rey a little. 

“Am I?” she managed to say, a lump in her throat blocking any further word. 

The doctor rose from her seat, too, looking the girl in the eye. “I understand if you need some time to think about it, Miss. I see you haven’t even accepted the fact you’ve been sharing this connection through the Force with my patient. Sometimes we’d rather be blind than see an uncomfortable truth. We could discuss it tomorrow. Or another day. When you’re ready.” 

Rey could only shake her head as a response. She wanted to know. 

“As you wish, then. As I was saying, my patient recognised this bond as an uncomfortable reality quite soon and asked for my professional assistance. I warned him – exactly as I’m warning you, now - about all the risks; that he had to be careful, as cutting this thread could severely damage you both, but alas, he is determined. He is stubbornly choosing a path from which there is no coming back, maybe because in this moment he is convinced he has nothing left to lose. But what about you? You have all the rights to decide as well. Maybe the end of this unwelcomed connection may seem appealing to you, either. Or possibly, you could be more rational. You could be willing to consider the matter from another point of view. 

In any case, be aware of this: removing an existing part of a patient’s psyche is my surgical specialization, and it is neither simple nor painless. It could damage you both permanently, causing you clinical depression, personality disorder, suicidal. I usually perform it only on patients whose psychological health is severely impaired. Moreover, re-establishing a severed connection or creating a new one is beyond my abilities; doing that is only up to the Force. Hence, I won’t be able to help you if you couldn’t get along without it and decide you want it back.” 

Rey stayed still, her mind in turmoil, her hearth beating fast. It was happening, it was really happening: what she had feared, denied and rejected as a ridiculous thought was now in full display before her. She had chosen to ignore what had happened to her even when Master Luke had referred to some ancient legends about Force-bonded Jedi. She had convinced herself it had been a casual conversation; that her Master hadn’t been implying anything. Now, here at galaxies of distance from Ach-To, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Her voice came out in an imperceptible whisper: 

“I haven’t been dreaming at night, lately. I … don’t dream anymore. I wake up in the morning feeling a sense of void, …sadness. A loss. I’m changing, deep inside of me, and not in a good way. It seems to me like I’m losing some part of me. Like something in my soul is about to die… is it him, then?” 

“I would say it’s not-him, meaning that you are experiencing his absence. For all I know, he’s been actively blocking the bond since he realized you shared it.” 

Rey frowned. How was that possible? Apart from a single dream, she hadn’t felt his presence in her life at all. How was she supposed to suffer for his absence? Then, following another line of thoughts: “You aren’t with the First Order, then. I don’t know how but I… I can feel you are telling the truth. But what about him? What if he comes here with a division? Could this be a trap, set up by… that man… my enemy?”. 

The woman leaned back against her chair, making more distance between her and Rey. “Miss, believe me when I tell you I would never put your life – any life – at risk. I’m here to heal, not to harm. And as regard to any detail of my patient’s life, my own professional rules oblige me to respect his privacy. If what I am telling you is not enough, I suggest that you ask him personally.” 

A wave of fury rippled through Rey’s veins at the doctor’s cold words. “Privacy, doctor? You are talking about a torturer and a murderer and you know it. You have been providing medical care to a monster, and…”. Then she stopped talking, a sudden realization hitting her for the first time. 

Kylo Ren was there. Nearby them, maybe in one of the many rooms in the same aseptic corridor she had walked before…but no, she would have felt his Force signature, if he was that near. She had felt it so strongly, in Takodana; and on Starkiller, strapped to the torture chair, the feeling of his presence had been almost overwhelming… 

“No, Miss, you are wrong. I mean, you cannot feel him, but not because he is not here. He is here, indeed. And if I were to define him a monster, choosing consequently to deny him my professional help, then I really should consider another line of work for me. In fact, the majority of my patients could be considered “monsters” as well, according to your criteria. Do they not deserve to be treated? Should I leave them to their fate? I’m very sorry to hear that a young woman like you is so narrow-minded.” 

“Narrow minded? How dare you! I saw your precious patient impaling his unarmed father, his only guilt his love for his son. And my best friend is safe by a miracle. You…” 

“…I am only asking if you consent or not. Sorry I digressed, Miss,” the doctor said coldly, “I cannot proceed if you don’t give your permission.” 

Rey deflated. She slowly let herself fall down on the chair. She sighed, confused, unsettled. “You… you said that if I consent, I would probably experience depression, worse than I currently am. What if I don’t? If I just go away, pretending this conversation never happened?” 

“He would probably die in a few days. Maybe one month. You would probably be affected the same way.” 

A sudden memory of Leia embracing her, after Starkiller. Slowly, Rey lowered her gaze, absentmindedly looking at her hands on her lap. “Is… is he dying?” 

“I told you, I take a psychosurgical treatment into consideration only if the patient’s life is at risk.” 

“How is he dying? What happened?” Again, she was feeling in a daze. 

“Do you want to see him?” 

“No,” she was really feeling sick, now, ”why should I?” 

“So that you two can discuss a choice that will inevitably change the course of your lives. Talk to him, in person, Rey. You have to, for your own health.” 

Doctor Folyer rose from her seat. Her face was visible, now: middle-aging, her skin was wrinkly but her eyes were so full of light, right now. “Follow me”, she said, taking Rey’s hand, “you need to see him.” Rey stood up and walked along the corridor, more and more confused and light-headed. She was trembling, but she was not unwilling to go. 

She just couldn’t figure out why. 


	2. THE CAKE IS SERVED

They entered in a dim-lighted room, at some point, and there, lying on a couch, there was a sleeping man. 

He was lying on his side; through a mane of black hair that covered partially his face, a thin long scar was visible on his pale complexion. Much too pale, Rey noted. Also, the cheekbones were more prominent than she remembered, and his nose seemed more pronounced than before. He was thinner, far thinner that the last time they met. 

“Not only did he request a massive Force-suppressant therapy, he’s also refusing food,” dr. Folyer explained, shaking lightly her head like she was worried or disappointed. 

“Is that why I cannot sense him in the Force?” Rey asked, frowning, and the doctor just nodded in return. Nothing of this made sense to her. Was he hiding himself from her? Then why had he allowed the physician to summon her here to his presence? 

The doctor touched her arm, gently: “Please, miss Rey, talk to him. You need to know what happened and I have no right to speak for him. Don’t be afraid, there’s no way he could harm you now, even if he wanted to; he’s too weak.” This said, the doctor left the room. 

Rey stood still, her hand once again playing with the hilt of her lightsaber, considering the situation: his enemy had been left unarmed and weak before her. How simple it would be, now, to take advantage of him, to avenge all his evil deeds, Han’s death, Finn’s sufferance, and her own; he had tortured her, condemned her to be…bound to him. Or… it had been her? How could all of that have happened? 

He shifted then, opening his eyes. He moved the arm under his body, propping himself on an elbow, then rested his temple on the metallic headboard, as if he was uncapable of sustaining the weight of his own head. His movements were slow, and in the end, he was even paler than before, sweated, as he was going to pass out. He did not. He looked at her; her eyes, her hand on the lightsaber, then her eyes again, his face unreadable, his eyes the only living thing in the room. Rey noticed how his skin formed a deep hollow between his clavicles and neck, and how the sharp bone of his shoulder was visible through the thin tissue of his hospital gown. He really was all skin and bones. Some beard had grown on his chin and upper lips. How different from the man of Starkiller, this one. From the man of her nightmare… 

“So, she did it. She dragged you here. To perform her antics, to have your…consent.” His voice hadn’t changed. Rey shifted uncomfortably. 

“You…don’t trust her, then,” 

“I trust no one, apart when I’m inside of their heads. And right now, as you can happily see, that’s really impossible, for me.” 

Rey felt a surge of anger in her chest. The man hadn’t changed at all. The same identical arrogant bastard. 

“There’s no way I could be happy to see you,” she said moving her stare from his eyes to his weakened body, just for a little while, “even if what I see now is that you’re dying. I came only because your doctor – your _psychiatrist -_ tricked me” she spat looking at him in the eye. “Now tell me why you’re here, or I will leave immediately, and you won’t ever have your longed-for treatment.” She tried to speak calmly, in a cold tone, keeping her composure. He closed his eyes, sighing. 

“I left the First Order,” he whispered, “I had no place to go except here.” 

“You left the First Order,” Rey pondered his words, incredulous. “Why?” 

His eyes opened, then, fixing an intense stare on her face. “This is not of your concern”, he murmured, “give the doctor your consent and go away as soon as possible. You will never have to hear from me again.” 

“Why should I? Doctor Folyer explained me this treatment is dangerous. That it will ruin my life forever. No, no way. Give me a good reason, if you really want my consent, a very good reason.” 

“A good reason? You’ve nothing to lose, this is your good reason. Your life is already ruined, Scavenger: you’re bound to me.” 

That was true, Rey thought, cursing the Force, but it was not enough. She needed to know more. 

“Then it is all the way the same, what changes? If I consent, I will be unhappy because I will suffer depression and I probably will end up suicide; If I do not, I will be equally unhappy being Force-bonded with a criminal, or a corpse, and again, I will suffer the same kind of mental illness.” 

His lips stirred a little, a weak puff of air escaping from his mouth. A laugh? But his eyes, his eyes were so sad and tired, now. 

“Why are you laughing now?” 

“Because you’re right, Scavenger. Either way, you’re fucked up.” 

She scoffed. “Maybe you didn’t notice what you have made of yourself. Stop being mysterious, now. Tell me why you want this bond to be severed so badly.” A strange calm was spreading throughout her body. She took a chair nearby the bed and sat down relaxed, leaning back comfortably with her legs crossed, just near to his enemy, who was staring at her flabbergasted. 

He talked finally, after a long pause in which he seemed to be considering the situation. “Per se, I couldn’t care less of this bond, obviously.” 

“Of course, so do I” Rey said, rising an eyebrow. Now, he seemed very quiet, too. Then he lowered his gaze, working his jaw; his voice came out with the same velvety shushed tone that he had on Starkiller, when the braggart had her strapped on the interrogation chair and showed off his novelization of her own dreams, private thoughts and emotions. 

“Promise…promise me…that if I tell you, you’ll go away as soon as the treatment is done and…that you won’t tell anyone…anything…about all of this.” 

“Listen to me, Mr., uhm…ex-knight? I am not promising anything to you. You could reduce yourself a perfect skeleton if you please, it just doesn’t work with me. I don’t trust you and I will never do. And if you are implying I could talk about you to General Organa, well she’s suffered enough…” 

“It’s because of Snoke,” he interrupted her, harshly. “He could use it…he could…he is an…imaginative torturer. This bond, in his hands…I fear it could be the end for both of us. If he caught you, he would have the perfect weapon against me, as he could double the intensity of his power on me through the bond; and he could use it against you, as well, because he needs force users, desperately, and he would do anything to sway you to his cause.” 

“In vain,” Rey said, “I’d rather die than take your place. Then again, I don’t see why he would hurt me to sway me to his cause; I’d find it, how could I say…counterproductive? And as to him torturing you, it is not as you don’t deserve to be punished, after what you’ve done.” 

He fell silent, then. More than before he looked tired, defeated. 

“So, you’re hiding from Snoke. This is why you’re abusing of Force-suppressants, avoiding food, weakening yourself. You want to seclude yourself by the Force. Is it even possible? Do you really think this way he won’t find you?” 

Her words had a less acidic tone, now, and he seemed to be relaxing in response. 

“He can’t sense me. He won’t find me.” His eyes were closing now, giving way to sleep. 

“And then? What will you do? Will you stay in that bed, consuming yourself till you die?” 

“I will kill him”, came his sleepy voice, “Don’t know how, but I will.” 

Rey stayed still for a bit, considering the weirdness of the situation, of her calmly and comfortably seated near his sworn enemy and unwanted bond-mate, who had chosen her to all people to reveal he was a defector now, that he was hiding from Snoke and that he wanted his second ex-mentor dead – _he definitely must do this as a habit_ , she thought. And then, he had fallen asleep like a child under the careful eye of his mommy, careless that she was his enemy instead, and armed, in addition; as if the strange, comforting bliss that had enveloped her before, had then taken a hold on him, too. 

Because there, in that dim-lighted hospital room, she effectively _felt_ calm and comfortable as she hadn’t felt for so long; maybe, as she had never been before in her life; and this was far odder than the idea of Kylo Ren defecting the First Order and betraying Snoke. 

*** 

“Are you ready to fill in the authorization form, miss Rey of Jakku?” the golden droid asked, handing her the paper. 

Rey smiled to the little thing, wondering what could be the cause of its malfunctioning. “I’d need to talk to Dr. Folyer, before. I have some doubts and maybe she could help me.” 

The doctor entered the office and was greeted by the droid:” She has no need to talk with you, doctor. She has no doubts and she’s sure you can’t help her.” 

“H-70, please continue talking to us and do not offer miss Rey that piece of cake”, said the doctor, “miss Rey, did you find the conversation useful? Did you make a decision?” 

“Not yet, doctor. Uhm, thanks, H-70,” Rey took the dish with a big slice of cake that smelled deliciously, “I honestly don’t want to risk…mental illness. And from what you said, if I consent, I will certainly suffer…consequences. Then there is another aspect. If…we share this bond, and he doesn’t want it, it’s because…it’s like, how can I say? I feel like he thinks I have some kind of control…on him. And he doesn’t want it. He said it is because of Snoke, that if we get caught, we would be horribly tortured, but I don’t believe him. I think it’s because I am with the Resistance, with his mother and uncle. He doesn’t want any contact with them, I think he fears them far more than he fears Snoke. And now that he has defected, the Resistance could take advantage from this situation. At least, I could keep an eye on him. Better with me than with Snoke. What do you think?” 

“Miss, my only interest is my patient’s health. You are implying that you are going to use this situation to the advantage of the Resistance; well I won’t allow this, because I’m sure this option is the absolute worst for my patient. He is not ready to come to terms with his recent actions; he still needs time to elaborate them. I’d rather prefer you consent to the treatment, at this point; if you don’t care for him, and for yourself, any further procrastination is pointless.” 

“But how…how can you talk to me this way, doctor! We _are_ at war and he _is_ my enemy! How could I care for him? You’re being ridiculous, doctor Folyer…” 

“No, miss. It’s you who is being ridiculous, as you haven’t accepted yet what happened. Listen carefully: you and him share a Force-bond. His health is your health. His well-being is your well-being, and vice-versa. All the other things – the war, the Resistance, Snoke, the First Order, are pointless details in the bigger picture.” 

Rey sighed, feeling defeated. “Then what should I do, according to you, doctor?” 

Doctor Folyer looked at Rey, thoughtful. “What were you saying before, that he could be afraid that you could have some power on him through this bond, and that you could be keeping an eye on him…apart from the Resistance, I mean...well that is not completely senseless, my dear.” 

“And what for, if not in advantage of the Resistance? He just wants me and our bond gone as soon as possible, and if I think about what he’s done on Starkiller I want him gone too, gone forever, you know what I mean.” 

“Well, we could, uhm, optimize the situation. You could come to terms with the bond, coexist with it. I could help you, supporting you on a psychological basis. In my professional opinion this would be so much better than a psychosurgical treatment, for both of you.” 

“In my unprofessional opinion, this is absolutely insane”, Rey stated, sceptical: ”And how do you think you could help us, anyway?” 

“We’ll see,” said Dr. Folyer; then, nodding towards the cake that was still in Rey’s hands, “eat the cake, Miss. I assure you it’s absolutely delicious,” she sugarily added. 

Rey arched an eyebrow, perplexed, sticking the little fork in the soft sweetness of her cake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will love your comments...


	3. THERAPY PROTOCOL

“No, this can’t be true”, the ex-knight uttered, his fingers clenched furiously to the arms of his wheeling chair. His angry eyes shifted from the Doctor, who had a particularly stupid smile on her face, to Rey, who was staring at him numbly. 

“And you, you accepted that? How could you? You should be afraid of me, or disgusted, at least. Didn’t you call me a monster? What did she promise to you to make you do this, uh?” he growled to a low voice, nodding towards the doctor, without detaching his eyes from Rey’s, “the possibility to hand me to the Resistance on a plate?” he really was fuming now, Rey noticed; he was getting pale and sweated again. 

Actually, she hadn’t accepted; not yet, at least. But the sight of him on the brink of a nervous breakdown was so appealing that her answer came out on its own accord. She feigned innocence, accurately choosing her words, even if what she was about to say was just what dr. Folyer had said to her before: “Of course I accepted, Ben. It’s for our own sake, you know. Your doctor hasn’t explained you, yet? _Your health is my health. Your well-being is my well-being, and vice-versa. All the other things – the war, the Resistance, Snoke, the First Order, are pointless details in the bigger picture_ ” she gave a quick peek of understanding to Dr. Folyer, whose smile had reached her ears by now, then again she looked at Kylo, whose colour had passed from white snow to crimson red in a matter of seconds. Clearly incapable to utter a single word, he furiously contracted his right arm’s weakened muscles around the metallic armrest. And maybe because it was an old chair or maybe because, despite being weakened, it was a real powerful arm’s muscle, the armrest was soon detached from the supporting structure of the whole wheeling chair, that, left unbalanced, overturned on its side, with Kylo on it. 

“Oh, my dear! H70, do not come to help us!” the doctor exclaimed, leaping up from the chair, while Rey was making a desperate effort to not laugh, but with little success, she could tell, as the ex-knight launched her a murderous look. The poor droid was hit by the aforesaid armrest as soon as it entered the room; it chirped something unintelligible, turning on itself three or four times. 

“This is not going the way you think”, Kylo said, fuming, sitting there on the floor, menacingly grabbing what was left of his chair. 

“This is the best for you both, in my professional opinion,” Rey rolled her eyes as the doctor pronounced the now familiar words, sitting again on her chair, “now let me read you the therapy protocol; you will have to follow to the letter the prescriptions, if you want them to be effective”. 

*** 

At the end of the reading, it was Rey’s turn to be fuming. Ignited lightsaber in hand, she was menacingly pointing to the Protocol in Dr. Folyer’s hands. 

“Destroy that,” she said, breathing hard for the fury. 

“What?” the Doctor said, calmly. 

“The Protocol. At least the part _tending him, feeding him, washing him, accompanying him in every private need, making sure he takes his daily pills_ , not to talk of the part _living with him all day until his complete recover._ I am not doing that. _”_

“Oh, that part. And then? Who will take care of him? Some stranger? Some poor nurse whose fate would inevitably be doomed? He is at his weakest and look what he’s done to his - my - wheeling chair – and to H70. No, Miss Rey, it wouldn’t work, _unless it’s you who takes care of him._ Not to tell that the core of the whole protocol is creating the conditions for you to familiarize _outside_ of the bond. My hypothesis is that accepting this connection is such a difficult thing for you because it’s traumatically intimate and both of you – for different reasons and in different ways – are all but comfortable with the mere concept of _intimacy_. I suppose that the simple physical contact could be a problem for you. Is it not? For you, Rey, after so many years passed in almost complete isolation, ever in guard, without no one to rely on. And for you too, Kylo Ren, with your eternal inner conflict that had to be hidden in masks of commitment – and it could be your lineage, or the Jedi code, or Snoke, but it really didn’t matter – the truth was that you were afraid you weren’t strong enough, or better, that _you didn’t want those things badly enough_. And those feelings – weaknesses – weren’t to be shown to anyone. In the end you needed a physical mask and many layers of clothes to hide you physically from other people. To prevent them _to even see_ you. I hardly believe you had _any type_ of contact with anyone during the last… ten years, maybe more.” 

Rey had switched off her lightsaber. She remembered well how hard it had been to accept Finn’s innocent touches, in the beginning; and even now, long after that, holding hands or hugging a friend were things that didn’t come easily to her. 

Kylo was silent too, now, Rey noticed. She wondered what he was thinking; maybe the same she was: that the Protocol, anyway, was ridiculous. 

They would be transferred to a planet in the Outer Rim, in which the Force, according to Dr. Folyer, “appeared to be much more difficult to be sensed than in the rest of the Galaxy”. Here the Ex-Knight could gradually reduce the amount of Force-suppressant, with no danger of being detected by Snoke. The bond would be active, but the two of them wouldn’t be aware of it. 

Doctor Folyer was sure Kylo Ren could completely recover, with Rey’s help, in about two weeks, period in which they had to live together. It would be Rey’s task to give him two pills of bland Force suppressant a day for the first week, just one for the second and then suspend the pharmacological therapy. 

From then on, they had to live separately, strictly following the daily Protocol. 

**Daily Therapy Protocol** (1 local day is composed by 27 local hours) 

Presentation

The present protocol consists in a series of activities that structures your day, in order to establish the best conditions for a complete recovery of the patient and for both of you, to gain a greater awareness of your Force connection and handle it maturely, just like the responsible adults that you are. 

The activities are distinguished in: 

\- Activities that must be performed Mandatorily Together (MTA) 

\- Activities that must be performed Mandatorily Alone (MAA) 

\- Activities that you can choose to perform together or alone (OA) 

MTA need to be short, at least at the beginning, and strictly structured: you must be aware, in advance, when exactly a MTA begins, when it ends, what are your tasks. To this purpose you have a pre-compiled timetable on your holopads, with the possibility to set up a sound signal for the beginning and the end of each activity. 

The most important MTA are the three briefing. The first has the purpose of programming; the second of monitoring and, if needed, variating the ongoing program; the third evaluates the whole therapy process during the day. 

Daily program

5:00 local hour: wake up; start of the daily routine (take a bath/shower, do the laundry, get dressed etc.) 

6:00 breakfast (MTA in a public place); 

6:30-6:55 1st briefing (MTA), in which you are to programme all the activities of the day you’ll do together, that is: 

_-Training/meditation/play sports (you must agree on what kind)_

_-Free time (only if you decide to share it: in this case, you’ll have to structure it in a clearly defined activity)_

_-Lunch and dinner (optional; in case, decide where and what you are eating, who has to get supplies, who cooks etc.)_

_-Readings/watching holonet shows or series: these activities are individual, but they need to be carefully programmed together because of the following tasks “discussion about readings or holoshows/series” and “role playing”, that are mandatorily to be done together._

_\- end-of-the-day procedures_

During the first briefing you’ll have to set and synchronise your holopad’s alarms signalling the beginnings and the ends of each one of the foresaid activities. 

7:00-9:00 socializing with natives, getting supplies, etc. (MAA) 

9:00-10:00 physical training/meditation (MTA) 

10:00-11:00 free time (OA) 

11:00-11:15 2 nd briefing (sharing impressions/ideas/comments about all the occurrences of the morning) (MTA) 

11:15-11:20 taking care of each other; asking the other what you could do for him/her; creating a collaborative and healthy relationship; cuddling. (MTA) 

12:00 lunch (OA) 

13:00 relax - reading time/watching holoshows or series (MAA) 

16:00 free time (OA) 

17:00-18:00 discussion and role playing about the readings (MTA) 

19:00 dinner (OA) 

20:00-22:00 free time (MAA) 

22:00-22:30 3rd briefing (sharing impressions/ideas/comments about all the occurrences of the afternoon and evening) (MTA) 

22:30-22:45 bedtime stories (MTA) 

23:00-23:30 writing your personal diary (MAA) 

23:30-5:00 sleeping time. 

“You will be given two apartments on Dliw, that is the planet’s name. We will have a holonet briefing every 30 local days, to discuss the therapy’s development. Any questions?” 

“Me,” Rey said, as Kylo Ren seemed to be in no condition to speak, “how do we live there? I mean we will have to work to live, won’t we? Because the Protocol does not include periods for working in its timetable…” 

“No, my dear, you won’t need to work. My patient, for all I know, has a lot of credits. In addition, life in Dliw is very cheap. I wonder if there are Dliwians that actually work, to be honest.” 

Rey glanced towards Kylo Ren, that seemed to be passed out, there sat as he was on the floor, his back leaned on the wall, his forehead on his bent knees; maybe the effort of breaking the wheeling chair in his weakened state, she thought, or he was just faking, to avoid uncomfortable questions about where all those credits came from. 

_Oh, that is certainly something to investigate._

_And the Dliwians that needn’t working? Was that a clue?_

_Not to talk of the whole Protocol crazyness._

_Seriously, things are developing in a surreal way._

_How could I say yes to this insanity?_

_Well, who gives a shit? All is better than Jakku._

These thoughts were in Rey’s mind, when the Doctor’s voice took her back to reality. 

“And to finish, I’ll send H70 with you. It will help you grandly,” dr. Folyer concluded, with a sigh, “Are you happy to go, H70?” 

The droid chirped desperately. 


	4. DLIW

“Ben,” Rey murmured, knelt near to the bed where Kylo Ren was fast asleep, “Ben, please. You have to take your morning pill. And to eat something.” 

On their way to Dliw, she had thought she was making her biggest mistake accepting to take part to that madness. While Kylo was out cold in the cabin, doctor Folyer had tried to reassure her in many ways than one, but in the cockpit of the spaceship, where she was co-piloting, only two images populated her mind: Han’s death – chest pierced, hand caressing his killer’s cheek - and Kylo Ren’s haunted face during their fight in the snowy forest of Starkiller. 

This was the person with whom she was about to live in the coming days, or months, maybe. How long would it last? How long before his first attempt to kill her? What was she supposed to do if things turned wrong? 

Those worries tormented her until the sight of Dliw came to her eyes. A beautiful planet, at least from the cockpit. Emerald-blue, it was covered by oceans, she could tell. A truly wonderful place, she observed, when they landed in a local spaceport, placed just in the middle between a breath-taking beach – there was sand like in Jakku and sea like in Ahch-to but it was nothing like those places: it was _paradisiac_ – and a large forest, through which densely overgrown greenery she had spotted rivers, or lakes, or both, she couldn’t tell, while overflying the zone. 

But Dliwians, when they disembarked, turned out to be the strangest kind of people Rey had ever seen. 

In the streets of the city of Tsol, Dliw’s capital, there was a sort of permanent festive atmosphere. A chaotic multitude of young people, men and women, celebrated their day and their lives in very disparate ways. Laughers, noisy chattering, chants, joyful cries; some people danced to the sound of improvised music, some slept in random places, other did…things…, well, publicly. As it appeared, and as dr. Folyer then explained to Rey, Dliw’s political organization was the most perfect form of anarchy actually implemented in the whole galaxy. Or it had been, until some years before. 

Because now, dr. Folyer said, things were changing; there was too much of anarchy and too few of organization. No kind of organization, to say the truth. But, the physician added, that was nothing of their concern; they had to think about their health, not about politics. 

Dr. Folyer, with the help of a delivery guy from the spaceport, accompanied a semiconscious Kylo Ren, Rey and H70 to Kylo’s apartment, in a residential neighbourhood West to Tsol, and then, after they put the Ex-Knight to bed, the physician showed Rey her place, a few blocks South. 

Then they came back to Kylo place, and dr. Folyer took her leave, with further recommendations and encouragement to Rey, that was more than ever afraid to be left alone in an impossible situation. 

Yes, she was staying for her own health. 

Yes, at least he had left the First Order. That was reassuring. 

Yes, she had the situation in hand. 

Didn’t she? 

And there she was. Alone with a mad droid and…Kylo Ren. She sighed, contemplating the sleeping beast, his morning pill in her left hand and half a glass of water in the right. The murderer seemed so peaceful in his sleep, she thought, and hopefully he would regain it soon after the medicine-and the dinner; but now he had to wake up. 

“Ben,” she called, rising her voice a little bit, “BEN!!”, she finally cried in his ear. 

“OH!” his startled exclamation accompanied the sudden motion of his arm, apparently - but ineffectually - summoning his lightsaber. He saw her, then. Agitated and in complete confusion at first, he seemed to calm down soon after he recognised her. “What…where…?” he managed to say some time after, taking in his surroundings. 

“We…we are on Dliw,” she said, her voice trembling a little. Lowering her stare, she continued: “This is your apartment, and… and this is your morning pill. Take it, Dr. Folyer insisted you took it soon before dinner. You need to eat something, afterwards. Dr. Folyer left me indications about your diet, and in the kitchen there is a meal suited to your current needs.” 

He averted his eyes from her, a dark shadow on his cheeks, “I need…where is H70?” 

Oh, that was it, she thought. The beast had woken up. This was of course one of his notorious temper tantrums that was going to begin; of course his dark nature needed something to destroy, and he would begin with that poor, already damaged droid. She couldn’t allow that. “Why do you need it? What can it possibly do for you that I cannot accomplish?” She asked suspiciously, a harsh tone in her voice, expecting the worse. 

He gave her a dark look, rage colouring his otherwise pale cheeks, and growled “None of your…” but then he seemed to reconsider and relax: “I need to urinate,” he said, giving himself a tone of dignity, his stare fixed on a point of the ceiling. 

“Oh,” she felt flames enveloping her cheeks, “I’ll help you to the ‘fresher.” 

“What? No! No. Just let that droid bring me a suitable container”, he looked at her in the eye for a moment, then his eyes went back to the same point of the ceiling. 

“Uh. Yes. Can you please take your pill before?” 

“Leave it on the nightstand with that glass of water, I’ll take it later.” 

“No, this is out of question.” 

“Out of question?” 

“Dr. Folyer recommended me to give it to you personally. To…put it directly in your mouth. I have to check you swallow, too.” 

He lifted his head from the pillow, an angry grin on his face. Again, she thought he was about to explode, to slap away her hands, pill and water’s glass and all, doing a mess. Well, she was ready to match him blow-for-blow. 

But once more, unexpectedly, he calmed down. Maybe her trembling hand, she thought, cursing herself for revealing her own weakness. 

He glared at her with an unreadable look. 

“Fine. Give it to me.” He relaxed and parted his lips lightly, eyes fixed on hers. 

She managed to depose the medicament on his lower lip, just a little bit protruded; and no, it was not that her fingers shook uncontrollably; it was rather because his damn lips had to be so stupidly big, that she miscalculated the distances – just a matter of millimetres - and couldn’t avoid the _contact_. 

She glared as with his upper lip he pulled the pill in his mouth, directing his stare to the water glass in her hand. She promptly handed it to him. He grabbed it from her hand, successfully avoiding to touch her fingers; then closed his eyes, drank and swallowed. 

“O-open your mouth. Let me see if - if you really swallowed,” Rey blurted out. He complied, opening enormously and closing his mouth in a mock move, that left Rey dumbfounded. 

“Now call the droid,” he commanded. 

*** 

REY’S DIARY – DAY ONE 

I am writing this journal in accordance with dr. Folyer’s suggestion, hoping this report could be useful for ~~Kylo’s~~ ~~Ben’s~~ the patient’s recover. And for my mental health, too, tough I honestly don’t see how noting down my impressions about this impossible situation could be of any help; I just have to trust the science and dr. Modna Folyer’s words, as it appears. 

Day one was ok, more or less. He seemed surprisingly cooperative and calm. Only when I told him that he had to write his own diary, as I am now writing mine, he laughed at me. Quite a laugh, I have to say; he seemed to feel bad at a certain point, he was maybe on the brink of passing out. But then he turned serious and asked me if I was joking about that. I didn’t respond him, why should have I? He was being an ass. 

But fortunately, he ate his dinner. All of it. I had to feed him, he was too weak to eat it on his own, but he ate all the proteins, mineral salts and vitamins of his daily diet. At the beginning, it was awkward. I told him to lift himself on a little bit, so as not to choke on his food. I tried to help him – he’s so weak - but he said that _he’d prefer not to be touched._ And that’s really something to be thankful for, because of course it’s me who really doesn’t want to touch anyone – least of all _Kylo Ren,_ the beast who murdered his own father. I don’t know how I could have stayed calm, the memory of the kill still burning on my mind. But I did. And incredibly, so did him, when I began feeding him. Opening wide his mouth, like a good boy. I faked in my mind that I was back in my childhood, alone in my AT-AT, feeding my pilot doll. In my lonely games the pilot had to eat very much – he had to save the galaxy. In this reality instead? What should I expect from this man? Sometimes I really think I don’t know what I’m doing. Then again, at least the monster isn’t slaughtering anyone at the moment; until he’s weak and sedated, I have him under control. 

After dinner he set himself into a meditative stance; but soon he was fast asleep, giving me the opportunity to sit, eat something and write this report. 

Tomorrow I’ll have to go out and get supplies from Dliwians. I’m a little bit nervous because I don’t really know what to expect from them. _They do not actually work_ , according to the doctor. What does it even mean? 

_They do not own, they share._

Weird people. 


	5. DLIWIANS

Dliwians, as it turned out, were warm, early-rising people. Rey had only just left Kylo’s apartment that day – basically, it was sunrise - when she was enthusiastically greeted by a woman who was walking on the street locked arms between two men. All three young and beautiful, and smiling at her. 

“Hi, lovely creature! Would you join us?” 

Rey stopped on her tracks, dumfounded. She’d never seen that woman before. Was she confusing her with someone else? She decided to be cautious in her answer: 

“Hi, sorry no, I’m a bit in a hurry…” 

The woman’s smile disappeared from her lips, then she sighed: “Oh, that’s too bad, love”, she said to the man on her left, pouting, apparently disappointed. She took his jaw in her hand and kissed him on the mouth, as to comfort herself. Shifting then her mouth’s attention to the man on the right, who got a little bite on his neck, “we could have had such a good time altogether”, she said with a sad - and hungry - look on her face. As to the men, they were smiling to Rey like she was heaven. Then the three of them resumed their walk, leaving a shocked Rey behind, until one of the men, as if a sudden important thought had struck him, turned his head back to her: “anyway, we’re going to the Convention. In case you change your mind.” 

Alone in the street, Rey wondered what had just happened. Were all Dliwians that socially…enterprising? And what would be this Convention about? 

The shop was not very far, and – did Dliwians sleep at all? – it was open; even at a quick look, it was clear it had any kind of good one could ever desire or think about. The owner, a blond, very handsome young man welcomed kindly his new client; he gave her his name and asked hers in return, then declaring himself “at her complete beck and call”. He seemed impressed by the long list of items Rey gave him, and immediately got to work collecting all the requested products. 

Rey waited, looking around; in the produce section, some limp vegetables were laying on top of a large refrigerator unit; she was just wondering if it was broken or unplugged, when her attention was caught by a woman who had entered the shop. She was asking something to the owner, interrupting his work; soon, they ended up kissing and touching each other, not at all bothered of her presence. A petrified Rey could see the woman doing something with her face right in front of the owner’s pants. Rey turned her eye back to the fridge, giving them privacy and trying desperately to stay calm and to not panic. She desperately tried to concentrate her attention on the large device, that definitely was out of order, she easily found out, while feigning to herself to not be hearing the obscene sounds coming from her back. Some time after, satisfied exclamations and liberating cries told her they’d finished; this confirmed by the fact that soon after the woman was standing up in front of her, choosing fruits from some crates there on the fridge, smiling at her and launching her the filthiest of the flying kisses before leaving. 

And there he came, the owner, with a blessed look on his face, indicating her a great number of bags and envelopes on the counter, waiting to be taken away. “So, all is there. Sorry for the interruption,” he said, as if that was just natural order of things. 

“Oh. Thank you. And…how much?” 

“Uh, you…you mean, you want to pay…pay check…but I don’t remember the prices, you know. If you would be so kind to give me some time, I’ll find the price list, ok? It should be here…somewhere. It’s a long time since I’ve had to use it. Here in general we do share…”. He frowned, “have you anything to share? It is simpler than using money. And funnier.” In spite of the ambiguity of his words the man appeared to be sincere and not at all menacing or abusive. 

“I’m sorry, I have nothing…” she said, while a devious part of her wondered if an ex-knight could be worth of an exchange, then she got the idea: “I…could repair your refrigerator” Rey said hesitantly. 

The man’s face lit up. “Really, could you? Because if you do, I promise I’ll give you all I have in my store…I’ve been trying to get it to work again for ages, by now, you don’t know how much good went bad during the summer! Oh, blessed creature, oh thank you maker for sending her!!!” 

*** 

**KYLO REN’S DIARY-day 2**

_I’M BORED. This convinced me to write this report. Today the Scavenger went out soon, leaving me alone with the droid. The only entertainment of the day has been telling it to not dismount itself, and enjoying the Scavenger’s cries of indignation and rage when she got back. When I saw her, she seemed strangely embarrassed. She wasn’t alone, a man helped her to bring home the provisions. She’s so stupid to trust whoever’s standing around, Force help us! The man looked like a moron, though. The two of them, a moron convention. He told her something before leaving, the two of them looking at me. Couldn’t hear what. Could he be with the resistance? Only time will say. At lunch the Scavenger seemed more and more anxious. She fed me with the things she bought – absolutely tasteless and bad-cooked – and when I told her that she was engulfing my mouth with that shit too fast for me to swallow, her only response was shoving an enormous fruit, kind of an orange, rind and all into my mouth. I hate her. She does everything she can to be as far from me as possible, thanks to the Force, but then there are these moments in which we have to interact. As to feeding me, I think she likes doing it; she participates, opening her own mouth when presenting me the mouthful of food. Her hand always trembles a little, though, and I enjoy seeing her hating herself for that. Apart from this I feel slightly better. I’m not swooning anymore, and I feel my strength are slowly coming back. My thoughts are clearer, and soon I’ll be able to rethink this whole madness and hopefully come up with a solution. What to do with my life. What to do with the girl. How to kill Luke. How to kill Snoke._

*** 

**REY’S DIARY – day 2**

_This planet is horrible and its people are strange and I feel lost here. Here everyone has sex with everyone without any discernment and discretion of sex or age. They call it freedom. They have the Convention, which is a gigantic orgy that involves the whole city. And, there are no children here. All men and women young and healthy. A few older people. The “sharing” they talk about consists essentially in sexual exchanges. They are not rude, in no way they are abusive. They never force anyone to anything. But their freedom is…frightening. I don’t think I could ever understand their point of view. Fortunately, all I have to do is repairing devices, it turned out this ability of mine is of great use here. This will be my own and only trading currency here, and the less interaction with dliwians, the better. The shop guy is kind and respectful, I think I can trust him. He’s understood my attitude – my embarrassment - quite soon, and it helped. Only, when he was leaving Kylo’s apartment, he had the nerve to ask me who he was – and if we were together! I told him I was just helping a friend. An acquaintance. More an acquaintance than a friend. Why was he asking? Because the guy found Kylo attractive. A little bit thin, but still attractive. Sexy, so he defined the ex-knight. Beautiful hair and lips, he said, biting languidly his own lower lips, with an idiotic look on his face. Oh Force, if only he knew. If…if only Kylo knew! Could the guy…be Kylo’s type? This is simply…disgusting, me wondering about these things. Even when I was feeding him, my mind was back to the woman doing things with her mouth to that guy… the same guy that liked his lips so much…oh Force I need to stop thinking these things!_

**Author's Note:**

> No motherlanguage, no writer, no betas; I just shouldn't have done this.  
> But I had to, because of Reylo.
> 
> With all my love to Reylo shippers! Please leave a comment, if you like this stupid fic...


End file.
